


A Lesson of Dead Doors

by WayWardWatson



Series: Party When Dead Sherlock Fics [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tales, Flowers, Gore, I Blame Tumblr, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Language of Flowers, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Romance, Secrets, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:09:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWatson/pseuds/WayWardWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a dead door, what his mom would call it, full of secrets his king stashed away, but, he reasoned, Jim would have locked it and if it’s locked, what has Sebastian to fear? He’d leave the hall and everything would be okay.</p><p>He turned the handle; the door popped open.</p><p>‘Don’t open a dead door,’ his mother had said, ‘don’t peek.’</p><p>If only he'd listened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson of Dead Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Out of order but this was the last day's bonus prompt: Fairy tale - enjoy.

Once upon a time there was an Irish king known as Jim Moriarty.

He was fairly young, extremely attractive, and lethally charming, neither hardly man nor woman could deny his beauty. It came as no surprise that he would marry young. The first was called Molly Hopper, a kind young lass from the center Kingdom, one of the personal doctors of the Holmes Royal family. He had met her on a political trip, after nipping a cold from the chilly rain; she had nursed him to health. They talked, she listened and laughed along, he liked her calm nature and soon he proposed.

She was packing her bags, when the main nurse Hudson came to deter her away from the marriage. Hudson knew the signs of a bad man, of an absent husband, and Moriarty reeked of it. She begged Molly to reconsider and stay, for she feared that she would never see her again. Molly gave her a thin smile, hugging the old nurse, and assuring her that she will visit her soon – not to worry if it is about seeing each other again.

 She left the very next day.

The marriage was simple and quick; the honeymoon shorter, for soon Moriarty was requested at the Southern Kingdom. In the time of his absence, Molly ruled the Northern kingdom and legend of her vast kindness and intellect became ingrained in the Northern lands. For two months, she ruled over the kingdom aside with Moriarty. But then, a week after Moriarty latest return from the Western lands, Molly becomes deathly ill and dies.

It is a private funeral, only the king is able to see her body and her burial.

So the people plant white peace lilies near the palace and the king ensures that the flowers are tended to. For five months, King Moriarty mourns for Queen Molly, and unable to stand the very site of her death, he visits the central kingdom. It is there that he meets his second queen: Lady Irene Adler.

It was during the winter ball, she was wearing an enchanting red dress, her dark locks curling around her, and he asked her to dance – how could she say no? He had heard of Lady Alder before, a woman of the south kingdom, the woman who could outsmart a Holmes, _the woman_ , the fairest in all the lands; it was simple fact that Moriarty had to have her. All too aware of the rumours regarding her… _taste_ , it did not deter the Northern King from proposing to the lady and neither did it stop her from agreeing.

Hudson could only shake her head, her heart still aching for the dear soul lost not even half a year ago.

As time before, the marriage was quick and simple, with hardly a honeymoon. He left shortly after their marriage, urgently called away for an emergency diplomatic meeting of the kingdoms. Unlike Molly, Queen Adler wasn’t as kind, but she ruled none the less with efficiency and wisdom. Yet, within the month, a week after Moriarty’s return, Queen Adler dies of food poisoning. Again, only the king can see her and again, the people plant a small garden for her, this time with red roses.

King Moriarty mourns for a month, before he goes off to marry again, this time a girl from the eastern lands.

Queen Three was Kitty Riley, she only lasted a week. The king didn’t even mourn. A garden of brown thistles was left in her honour.

Now, hardly two weeks later, he’s selected his next queen.

Sebastian never figured he’d be the next Northern Queen.  For starters, he wasn’t a woman.

Yet Moriarty seem to overlook the bulging fact that he had a penis, and Sebastian could only shrug. Secondly, he wasn’t a high class like the others before him. Molly was the second highest doctor, the first female doctor, in all of the kingdoms. Lady Irene was the fairest noblewoman of the south hired to work for the central kingdom. Kitty was a princess of the eastern lands, a prosperous kingdom that also boasted the largest of libraries. And Sebastian was, well, he was just a northern soldier and a fellow captain with, but now bodyguard of, John Watson (Prince Sherlock’s _obvious_ lover).

And yet, as King Moriarty stays for the week, he chooses him. It’s he that Jim seeks out to talk to, that he walks with, that he sneaks secret glances towards and, strangely enough, Sebastian starts to return the looks, starts to seek him out, and when Jim does propose Sebastian wastes no time in saying yes. King Holmes, prince Sherlock’s older brother, nods and sanctions the marriage, it is quick and simple, and suddenly, Sebastian finds himself the queen of the Northern kingdom.

Hudson, the retired nurse who still resides in the central palace (Prince Sherlock would be appalled if she were to leave), could only shake her head, any wasted words kept in check as she watches the pair go.

Jim was quick to attack his neck when the carriage doors closed behind them, sucking hard, his fingers tracing down Sebastian’s sides. He groans, his right hand tangling into Jim’s black hair, the left looking for a hold to keep him steady on the cushion. Jim’s nearly sitting on top of him; his body heat seeping through the layers of clothing, and Sebastian can only strangle out moans as Jim bites and sucks on his neck. Finally, the man pulls away, and Sebastian is pulling him in for a heated kiss; tongues curling, mapping, hands pushing at _too many_ layers of cloth, groping, grasping.

The driver tries not to sob as the cart rocks behind him – only two days time away, he reassures himself, and if he heard his king moan, he hardly dare to acknowledge it.

Despite the instant heat and connection, and the amazing sex, Moriarty has to cut their honeymoon short (which had lasted longer than the previous three) when he receives a mandate for his presence at the Eastern lands. It’s still early in the morning, and Sebastian is lying naked across from him, sleeping restfully; Jim lightly smiles, kisses his forehead, before leaving a note on the lone, empty pillow.

Hours later, Sebastian will stretch, his back cracking and his muscles flexing, briefly searching for his king when he spots the letter. He unfolds the sheet, slightly grinning when the paper smells like Jim, before reading the note.

“ _Love,_

 _I’ll be gone for just three days at the eastern lands, while I’m gone, please explore the palace and become better acquainted with your home. However, under no circumstances are you permitted entrance into the western wing. I shall miss you greatly as you will to me, and I’m sure we will gladly make up for it._ “

At the bottom was the curvy signature of the king, with a dotted smile at the end, how cute.

For two days, Sebastian scoured every last inch of the castle that was his new home. The corridors were wide and expansive, some boasting beautiful chandeliers and stained glass, others dark and gloomy with suits of armor lining the walls. Sebastian walked through kitchens stocked with food the likes of which a man his status had never even heard of before, never mind tasted. There were drawing rooms with beautiful seats on which to lounge, dining rooms with never ending tablecloths, billiard rooms to pass the time away with servants who wanted a game, and libraries stocked with books of every type of genre he could ever want to read. That was before even going outside to roam the estate, admire the rose gardens and lilies, and swim in the lake at the very edge of the castle grounds.

Yes, Sebastian's new life had provided him with everything he had ever wanted.

And yet, every time he walked past the West Wing his eyes lingered on the shadowy corridor a little longer than he would have liked. He tried to force the thought of it away, picturing Jim's disappointed face. It worked for a while, but the temptation of it grew bigger and bigger inside his mind, and the thrill of seeing the secrets of the forbidden West Wing became greater until no amount of books or billiards could sedate his desire.

It was the third day on which Sebastian Moran broke his promise.

He’s heading to the kitchen to scour for some meal when he passes the west wing hallway. He thinks of the letter, he imagines Jim’s face, but it doesn’t work and Sebastian finds himself walking down the west hall. With no windows and only the sparse light, Sebastian works his way down the progressively darkening hallway until his hands brush against a door. He’s just about to push it open when he spots a small line of light in front of him and moves to that instead. His fingers brush against another door and Sebastian pulls it open, suddenly faced with an onslaught of bright light. He shields his eyes, rapidly blinking behind his fingers, before realizing he’s standing in a small, private study with a large window.

Strangely, he feels disappointed at this anticlimactic moment. He gives a quick glance at the small bookcase, the mahogany desk, the lone chair outlined by the morning’s rays, before shutting the door and plummeting back into darkness. Eventually, he emerges from the west hall and heads into the kitchen to nibble on some toast, his appetite lost, before wandering the outside fields once more.

Jim returns after supper, he doesn’t even give Sebastian a peck before disappearing down the west hall. Sebastian panics for a second, wondering if Jim somehow knew, but he dismisses the idea – it would be impossible to tell, so he goes to prepare for bed.

Sebastian just gets the shirt over his head when Jim storms in.

“You had ONE RULE, ONE RULE, and you can’t even seem to FOLLOW THAT!” Jim roared, Sebastian sitting on the bed and watching the affronted man pace.

Jim steps up to Sebastian, feet planted, arms perched on each hip; Sebastian almost finds it comical if it wasn’t for the menacing snarl frozen on the king’s face. “You’re a soldier,” he spat. “You are made to _follow_ orders.” Sebastian remains silent, keeping eye contact and nodding in wordless apology. Jim looks ready to strangle him, and Sebastian does the first thing that comes to mind. He quickly wraps his arms around Jim’s waist, tugging him closer, kissing the clothed hipline of his king, relishing in Jim’s moan as he sucks through the cloth.

Hands working at pulling cloth off, Jim’s hands tugging through his hair, heated whispers and angry curses filling the room, sweat dripping off naked skin, toes curling in sheets, hands scratching at arched backs, cries of pleasure ringing out with every thrust – and Jim later forgives him all thanks to the angry sex. But, he whispers into Sebastian’s ear, don’t ever do that again or I’ll have to _skin you_.

In all fairness, Sebastian really did mean it when he tiredly nodded along.

Jim’s able to stay for a week before he’s called away to the Central Kingdom again, five days worth of diplomatic debating. Sebastian’s helping lift the luggage into the carriage; Jim perched inside with half his body leaning out. As Sebastian adjusts the last bag, Jim pulls him towards him before thoroughly kissing him. Lightheaded, Sebastian just grins up at Jim as the man says his farewell, and here Sebastian rests his chin on Jim’s knee.

Jim brushes aside a brown lock, with a small smile; he kisses his forehead, softly whispering sweet promises of his return before shortly reminding Sebastian to not go into the west wing. The two pull away, Sebastian nodding his head and waving, Jim nodding once, smiling, and Sebastian watches until the whole carriage has disappeared.

Five days until Jim comes home, he can do this, he reasons. But as he curls up in their bed, taking in Jim’s scent, and realizes that, no, no he needs him back. He pulls the sheets around him and drifts back to sleep, imagining his king curled next to him.

The first day he spends in bed, either sleeping or thinking of Jim. The second day, he runs around the castle, dipping into the lake and cooling in its waves. He wades out and slips back on his brown cloth trousers, striding back inside the castle. The third day, he’s taken over the library, books pile around him as he reads everything and anything on the shelves. He can proudly say he’s read a quarter of a small section of the library, whether he remembers what he read is a different story. He was bored by the fourth day and the west hall looked so inviting.

Jim would still be gone for another day, he wouldn’t know. 

He thought of the letter.

He thought of Jim’s disappointed face.

He thought of Jim’s angry face.

He thought of Jim’s threat.

He thought of the angry sex.

He was rather stuck on the angry sex.

But all that didn’t really matter because he was already submerged in the darkness of the west wing hall.

 His hands brush against the wooden lining of the wall, until his hand curls around the wall’s handle and Sebastian realizes it’s a door. The same door that he never opened, sure enough ahead of him was the small sliver of light, however he didn’t move. Should he open the door? He shivered at Jim’s possible reactions, and almost bolts if not for the coolness of the handle.

He tries to calm down and takes a deep inhale, then promptly coughs because, my god, how could he not notice that smell before. It smelt wet, musky, and something else that Sebastian couldn’t quiet put his finger on – either way, it wasn’t pleasant. He leaned against the door, every fiber of his being telling him to run, but his brain is screaming at him to open the door, just take a peek and that’s it.

It was a dead door, what his mom would call it, full of secrets his king stashed away, but, he reasoned, Jim would have locked it and if it’s locked, what has Sebastian to fear? He’d leave the hall and everything would be okay.

He turned the handle; the door popped open.

A rank smell hit him first, coughing; Sebastian reached inside his coat fumbling for a light. He places a foot in and hears something squish underneath. Finally, he finds a small match set and lights the small flame.

He nearly screams.

There was no blood, but there were the rotting corpses’ organs, and body pieces, fleshless and throbbing with maggots, snug in small barrels and containers. The head of Kitty was propped up against the cupboard, her left eye missing, flies nesting in the hole, while half her hair had fallen off. Irene’s hands lay smashed on the table, bits of flesh clinging to the bloody bone, while her legs, eaten and riddled with maggoty holes stuck out from a barrel. To his left, he saw a jar with Molly’s eyes bobbing around inside, a human heart next to it. Sebastian looks down and realizes with horror that he had stepped on someone’s small intestine, he back pedals into the darkness, his candle flickering out. With a steady hand, he closes the door before rushing back to his room. He prays that Jim doesn’t notice anything different.

 

Everything is fine when Jim returns, he doesn’t go to the west hall, they have more sex, and everything is perfect. It’s the fifth day of Jim’s return and, for fun; Jim’s tied Sebastian up with some of his favourite black leather binding (top deal; top quality) against the bed post. They’re in the middle of a very sexy part, when Jim sighs and looks down at Sebastian.

“Why did you do it?”

Sebastian doesn’t understand (though, at this moment, he could hardly understand anything), and Jim just sighs in annoyance.

“We had a good thing going, but you didn’t listen.” Jim tsks and Sebastian feels his heart leap, he starts tugging at the binding.

Jim gets off him and slowly disappears from sight. Sebastian panics when he sees Jim return with a skinning knife, oil, and a match.

“I warned you Sebby, and now I’m going to have skin you and _burn_ you. Oh look what you’ve made me do. I really wish you didn’t peek.” And Jim ignores his queen’s pleas, because, darling, there was one rule and one warning and you broke it, now I have to break you. No one will know love. But you’re my favourite, I won’t damage you too bad, Sebastian hears Jim mutter.

‘Don’t open a dead door,’ his mother had said, ‘don’t peek.’

His are the purple statices, the largest in the garden, and King Moriarty’s favourite place to spend his dwindling evenings. The citizens mourned the passing of their fourth and final queen, but none quite so much as the king himself. Till his own demise, he bore the black clothes of death, he talked only good things of Queen Sebastian, regret pooling his brown eyes.

If only he didn’t open the door.

He never married again.

 


End file.
